the leech

I dip my hand into the muddy green river
and take a swim in murky, moving water,
cool and buzzing with excitement
like a secret on the lips of the land.

My feet tread carefully through stony sludge
and hold me fast against the river's rush,
then unaware are spotted by a stealthy slimy leech
greedy for my blood, swift to attach.

When i find him later, suctioned to my toe,
I freeze in fascination like a doe
who, spying the deadly hunter, does not run
as if struck stone by fear or sudden love.

You peel him from my penetrated skin,
painted with dirt and blood, flowing and thin.
You chase the hunter deep into the forest,
and help me clean the wound as if I were precious.